


I Just Got Back From a War

by boundxdoll



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Chapter 1, Depression, Gallavich, Ian x Mickey - Freeform, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:32:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boundxdoll/pseuds/boundxdoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an AU sort of situation, Ian remains in the military, maintains his false identity, and eventually returns after his four year absence. In his absence he’s done two tours in Iraq, and successfully completed his contract. There is still time to sign another, but there is one thing stopping him. The same thing that made him leave in the first place. Mickey Milkovich.</p>
<p>The only problem is, it’s been four years. Who knows what he will come home to right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Didn't Want This For You

_I just got back from a war._

Four years ago, almost to the day Ian had hoped for something that Mickey hadn’t been able to give him. He had hoped for absolution, for validation, a reason to stay. In that time Ian had gotten the opportunity to think about everything, to process just how irrationally he threw away a relationship with somebody he really did love. Who knew what Mickey was doing now? From what he heard in the letters from his siblings, nobody had really seen him around, not since Svetlana had given birth to a stillborn daughter, and filed the divorce papers shortly after.

His military issue boots touched down onto Southside soil as Ian got off the Greyhound bus with his bag over his shoulder. Looking around he let out a heavy sigh of relief that nobody had managed to find out he was back in town, as much as he wanted to see his family he needed time to digest things slowly. He wasn’t as carefree as he had been four years ago. There was red on his ledger, nightmares that plagued him, and his own battlescars. With his bag over his shoulder he takes himself through the streets of the city he had known as home for the first seventeen years of his life.

Somewhere along the interim of aimless wandering he finds himself exactly in the middle of The Gallagher household’s location and the Milkovich household’s location. It was as if fate just longed to make it harder for the redhead to choose where he wanted to go first.

Neither.

That was eventually the only option that seemed right. So where could he go if he wouldn’t go to either place? The Alibi. It was as good of a choice as any. Finding himself there, the moment he walked in through the front doors panic hit him. There was no Frank in sight, that wasn’t the problem. It was that it had been four years, what if everyone thought he was just the same old Ian Gallagher who disappeared? Taking several deep breaths Ian muscled through it and took a seat at the bar.

“Holy shit! Ian?! How have you been dude?” Kevin asks with an excited tone, immediately getting a beer for the redhead.

"Kevin! Hey! I've been alright, just getting back..." Ian wasn't sure who knew and who didn't know. "got time to decide if I want another four years or not." The redhead added picking up the glass and staring into it for a moment before taking a long drink. There was a lot on his mind right now.

"Aw man you thinkin' about joining up again? Your family misses ya bro'...we all miss ya.” The expression on Kevin’s face had become crestfallen. 

“I haven’t decided yet, it’s good money, I can really help out my family, and it’s better than working at the Kash N’ Grab for the rest of my life.” His words were spoken like they lacked conviction, but still held truth, he just needed an anchor to keep him here. “You hear anything about Mandy?” A subtle question, a slick way of inquiring about the Milkovich household.

“Uh yeah, actually she comes in here sometimes with Lip, they fixed things I guess. You probably knew that though huh? For a while she was comin’ in here almost everyday lookin’ for Mickey,” Kevin shrugged. “Guess she must of found ‘im.” 

There was a good few minutes before Ian could really process the words to reply. Mickey was missing? Where the fuck did Mickey go? The redhead needed to finish his beer to drink down more of that liquid courage. “You know where Mandy is staying?” Because Ian had to find Mickey. 

“She’s probably still at the Milkovich house as far I know,” his tone a little distracted as he watched the door open. “If you’re lookin’ for her though, she just came in.” 

Ian whipped around when he heard that, “Mandy?!” 

“Ian! Oh my god, when did you get home?!” Mandy exclaimed throwing her hands out in a sweeping motion as she waddled over to hug him, the baby bump becoming more present. 

“Holy shit! You’re pregnant? Wow, Kev said ya’ll were together but I didn’t know ya’ll were that together,” Ian gasped as he wrapped his arms around her in a light embrace careful not to hurt her. “I just got back today.” 

Mandy chuckled and nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah, five months, that’s not the only thing either,” she grinned broadly pulling back to show him the tiny engagement ring. “He stole it from a pawnshop for me, sweetest thing ever.” Dropping her hands to her sides she chewed her bottom lip a moment. “Are you back for good...or?” There were a lot of things that hung in the air with that question. 

“That’s my brother for you,” Ian smirked, he was really happy for her, she deserved this. “I uh...I don’t know...I haven’t really decided.” 

“I think you should...but uh, if you’re looking for him he’s living down on 324 Cole Street, right above some Thai place,” her words were sighed out, foreshadowing that the situation wasn’t the best of them. “I think seein’ you might be just what he needs anyway.” Mandy added offering him a displaced smile. 

Mandy’s tone was sobering and it made Ian’s throat go dry. “I’ll uh...I’ll go see him right now actually --thanks for telling me,” Ian whispered rubbing his sweaty palms on his fatigues. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Apologizing briefly Ian brushed past her and headed out. Finding the location was a little difficult it was in a part of Southside he hadn’t really spent a lot of time in. Standing in front of the Thai restaurant he took a deep breath, staring up at the windows for any sign of life.

_What’s going on Mickey? Why’d you run away...I left but I didn’t want this for you. I didn’t want to come home to this._ His thoughts were conflicting him, but he wasn’t turning back. He wasn’t going forward either. Right now he was just going to stand across the street from the only thing that could hold him here and let smoke drift into the polluted air.


	2. Bottle After Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ian left so did any hope Mickey had. Dreams died and were replaced with sub-par coping mechanisms. He's getting used to the idea of living a life of loneliness, but everything is about to get turned upside down for him.

_It’s been four years but you’re still everywhere to me._

When Ian left his entire world fell to pieces, he may not have shown it at first but the months wore on, his marriage that he didn’t care about in the first place fell to pieces. He was stuck, he felt like he was being held prisoner in his own him. It wasn’t anything new it had been like that his whole life. Now however, it was more deafening than it ever had been. There was no outlet, nobody he could turn to, no redhead with that perfect smile to make this Hell feel more like home. 

After the baby was born without a pulse things fell apart even more, there was no reason for Svetlana and Mickey to maintain their farce, the papers were signed much to Terry’s chagrin, but he was soon dealt with as well. It was the end of the line for the repeat offender when charges of murder were brought up. There was a life without parole sentence and Terry had been sent downstate to live out the rest of his miserable life. A miserable life that was cut short in a yard fight. That’s what happens when you call the wrong person a faggot.

_There was no love lost._

Mickey was free to leave once that happened and he took that chance. He didn’t want to be around the people who reminded him of what he had lost, especially when Lip and Mandy started to date again. It was too much for his broken heart to handle. He still had money rolling in from the whore house, so he took what he had and left without a word to anyone. It was only months later that Mandy finally got ahold of his address, but she knew better than to just show up. Mickey had wanted to close himself off and there was nothing that could stop him. 

There were times over the years that he had tried to find solace with other people, that he tried to fuck other guys, but it always wound up with him slamming the door as he chased them off. It didn't matter how attractive they were, how much of Ian's features they had he just couldn't do it. He couldn't stand the thought of getting fucked by them, and he couldn't stay hard long enough to fuck them. 

His existence was a whole new level of lonely and he had found himself drowning in bottle after bottle. He never went places where people he knew might see him, that meant a different bar, different grocery store, he even worked thirty minutes away doing construction for the the North side of Chicago. It wasn't much but it paid the bills and put liquor in his stomach where food should go most days. 

It was a bar that he met a redheaded girl, she looked a lot like Ian in many ways, the same red hair, the same tall, broad frame. The best part about her was she was willing to fuck him with a strap on and didn't expect anything else from their quasi-relationship. Mickey eventually showed her to the door too, there was nobody, nothing that could fill the void. He was a broken man without a way to pick up the pieces. He didn't have a perfect stick of glue to hold his trembling limbs together. 

He'd never admit it but the only time he slept was after he'd cried every last tear he could for that day. 

Mickey just wanted Ian to call, text, something anything. He wanted a sign of hope, life something to give him a reason to wake up in the morning. 

\-----------------

His alarm went off, reaching over he slammed his fist down on the snooze button and rolled back over rubbing his temples, another hangover. It was no surprise, he should be better prepared by now for the morning. Today had to be different --it's what he told himself everyday. Today had to be better --it's what he tried to reason to himself before taking the first shot of the day. Before his alarm had the chance to go off again he turned it off and dragged himself out of bed towards the shower. 

Mickey had to wash the smell of whiskey off of his skin so that he could just repeat the process the next morning. He didn't work today, but he didn't want to sleep anymore than he had to. Sleep meant dreaming, and dreaming meant thinking of things that would never come. Rummaging through his laundry he picked something that didn't smell like it was washed in a bottle of Jack. 

It took looking around his shitty apartment to realize that he needed to do more than just throw more shit around that he would never pick up. After what seemed like --and probably was; months he began to pick up, throwing things away, gathering dirty clothing and going through the things a normal person does day to day. This wasn't without the help of his only friend, the bottle. It only took a couple of hours for his apartment to look like it was lived in, not an episode of Hoarders.

With laundry gathered ready for him to sober up enough to drive it to the laundromat he lit himself his nineteenth cigarette of the day and stepped up to one of his windows, lifting the blinds he looked around at the world outside his shit-hole place to live. When he looked down is when the cigarette dropped from his lips and his entire body seemed to freeze. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't tell that he whether this was real or if this was fake. 

_Was it him? Could he really be here? What would he say? Would he notice the weight loss, the dark circles around his eyes, the smell of alcohol on his breath? Would he care? Why was he here? How did he find him?_

These were the things that raced through his mind as he knelt to pick up his cigarette, these were his worries, because he didn't have hopes anymore, they died the day he left. When he stood back up and looked down to the spot where Ian once stood he was convinced that it was just his mind fucking with him again. He should know better than to think that Ian would come looking for him. Pulling the blinds down he resigned himself to the thought that loneliness would be all he'd ever know. 

It was better this way, Ian probably found somebody who could give him everything he needed, everything he deserved, Mickey had nothing to offer him. Hell, he had nothing to offer himself. He was a broken man with a broken heart and he was getting used to this idea, he was finally coming to terms with his fate. It was foolish to believe that Ian would really come looking for him. That wasn’t the world that Mickey Milkovich lived in, nobody gave a shit unless they got something in return, and for the people that wasn’t true for like Mandy he was just too poisonous to let himself be near them. 

Flicking ash to the floor he took another drag off of his almost spent cigarette, laughing at himself for letting himself believe in fairy tales. 

Then a knock came to his door, and his world stood still.


	3. You Need to Eat Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ian and Mickey's first interaction in four years. Things have been rough on Mickey and Ian can see it, but seeing isn't all that comes to believing the man needs him in his life.

It took Mickey several moments before he moved towards the door, slow and apprehensive like it might just be in his head. Unlocking the four deadbolts and chain he opened the door and let it swing wide as he stared at Ian with a skeptical stare. "....Ian?" It was q stupid question to anyone else aside from the one asking it.

Ian stared at the other male, taking in his appearance, he had noticed the weight loss, could smell the liquor on him, or coming from his apartment, he couldn't tell the difference right now. 

Everything inside of Ian was at war between punching Mickey and screaming at him for letting this happen, taking the man he knew he loved into his arms, and walking away. Anyone who knew Ian knew he couldn't just walk away, he wasn't that guy. He decided to go with none of the above and just see where things went. "Yeah, it's me, Mick." Ian's voice had a tremble to it, he never thought he would come home to this.

Mickey swallowed the lump in his throat only adding to the knots in his stomach. "You uh...wanna come in?" Mickey asked stepping back to give Ian some room.

"Yeah, sure," Ian answered almost hollowly as he stepped into the raggedy apartment and looked around briefly. "So uh, Mandy said you moved out a while ago." Because asking how Mickey was seemed to be a dumb question. He could see how Mickey was, it was written in the holes punched into walls, in the baggy way his clothing fit him, in the pale blue of his sad eyes.

Mickey chewed his bottom lip looking at the floor as Ian looked around. He could feel his face burning with shame as he stood there in his shit hole apartment in front of a man who seemed more put together than he could ever be himself. "Ah yeah, things just got too heavy there, couldn't really stand it anymore, Mandy is alright though, got herself a bun in the oven and she's uh engaged to Lip," Mickey rattled off in a tone that made it sound like he kept up with these things.

"Yeah, I know ran into her at the Alibi, she gave me your address." Ian didn't point it out but he saw right past Mickey's line of bullshit. He knew Mickey rarely talked to Mandy. "Look Mick, I'm gonna be straight with you here...my contract just ended and I can either go sign back up or I can stay here--' he paused looking Mickey over, the apartment over before meeting Mickey's gaze "but before I make a decision I wanted to see if anything has changed, if I had a reason to stick around." The words were heavy in Ian's mouth as he said them, heavy and bitter because he knew how they might have sounded but he couldn't help it, not with the emotions flooding his system right now.

As Mickey listened he could feel a his stomach churning, he could feel his heart racing, his body wanting to give into his flight reflex because he didn't know how much he could really fight. He didn't want Ian running out the door and back out of his life. "...I..." Mickey began as he tried to find more words to say. He didn't have a reason to be afraid anymore. That reason was dead. "I want you to stay," Mickey said in a breath when he noticed that Ian's expression gave way that he thought it was going to be a repeat of 'don't'.

"I need more than that, Mickey," Ian answered gingerly, but he wasn't giving up on him, not yet.

Mickey took in a shaky breath and began to worry his bottom lip for a moment. "I _need_ you to stay." Mickey added as he warily stepped a little closer. "I had a lot of time to think over the past four years and most days all I could think about was how much everything fell apart when you left. I want ya’ ta’ fuckin' stay, I fuckin' need ya’ ta’ stay. You belong here with me. Your fuckin' family misses ya', Mandy misses ya', and I fuckin' miss ya'," the older male managed to say through the sick feeling in his stomach, through the way the words tasted to him. The level of honesty made him nervous, made it hard for him to keep eye contact with Ian.

Ian stood there for a moment, considering, listening to everything that Mickey had to say. He honestly didn’t expect that the boy who could only utter one word before would be able to do much better this time around. Everything about those words that spouted from Mickey’s full lips was what he’d been waiting to hear for the longest time. Because it wasn’t rehearsed, he could tell just how nervous Mickey was. He could feel it in the air. However, for Ian’s own self preservation he couldn’t just let that solitary statement bring him falling back down the rabbit hole. The redhead needed to think about his words before he said them, and it was written on his face. “I--”

“No, don’t --” Mickey started as he lit himself a cigarette to calm his ever shaking nerves. “Don’t say anything, not right now, just don’t.” He cringed to himself knowing that word was the bane to their relationship before. “Just give me a chance to show you that I mean what I say alright? I’m not any fuckin’ good at this talkin’ thing. I don’t have the words you do, I don’t know how to just blurt out everything fuckin’ feeling I got,” Mickey said semi-defensively thinking the worse of the situation already, thinking Ian was going to reject him. 

“--what I was going to say is that I have time before they want to know if I’m signing right back up, I have the option to go back anytime I want, but I gave myself a week to decide. So uh yeah, let’s go get drinks--” Ian trailed off looking at the empty bottles around. “Let’s go get something to eat,” he corrected offering Mickey a gentle smile. “You lost weight, and I don’t like that, I liked that little belly thing you had going on,” Ian said with a chuckle as he reminisced.

The older male chewed his bottom lip to stop himself from interrupting Ian again, letting him speak. His gaze had dropped when the alcohol abuse was pointed out in way of plans going from drinking to something else. “Food sounds good, I know a great Thai place,” Mickey joked at his own expense, finding his cheeks going a little flush to Ian pointing out the fact he used to have a bit of a stomach going on over his abs. “Look at you talkin’ to me about losin’ weight and you’re what 175 pounds of pure muscle over there, Christ you could get a job as some fuckin’ fitness guy or somethin’,” the shorter male said with a laugh. Admittedly he was still nervous, but more and more he felt like he could relax.

“Yeah I bet you know a great Thai place, walking distance right?” Ian asked with a laugh, shaking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets grabbing his own pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Shut up, I’m not that beefed up, I don’t look nothing like those no neck mother fuckers,” Ian remarked with a smirk as he lit his cigarette. “You uh, got other plans or can we get goin’ now, and I don’t really like Thai food I’m sure we can figure out another place to go, I was thinkin’ the Alibi heard you haven’t been there in a while,” he said between taking a drag and exhaling. 

It was starting to feel more normal, the joking, the laughter, the fun of it all was starting to feel like there wasn’t a four year gap looming over them. “Yeah, and uh I got a car, so we don’t gotta leg it,” Mickey offered as he glanced around at the apartment before laying his eyes on the redhead. 

“A car and your own place, my, my Milkovich, I’m impressed,” Ian mused as he found an ashtray to flick his ash into. “You need to get ready or…” Ian began to ask.

“What do I look like Miss America? Let’s go,” Mickey laughed as he grabbed his coat and car keys heading towards the door.

\--official or not it was a date, a date at the bar Mickey had been avoiding, and a good welcome home. They had four years to catch up on after all.


End file.
